The Journal of Samwise Gamgee
by Maddy Lake Deep
Summary: Sequel to "Beloved Master" Memories of the quest continue to haunt Frodo and Sam keeps his frustrations to himself until...someone gives him a gift. Complete
1. A Cherished Gift

**_The Journal of Samwise Gamgee_**

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**Category: Angst, hurt/comfort**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters, just borrowing them for fun in the world of fanfiction. **

**Chapter One: _A cherished gift_**

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_**23, March, 3020**_

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**_The dreams continue. Horrible dreams Mr. Frodo tells me. I remember when they began. Many nights I would be at his home, by his side. I knew what would happen. And now I am afraid. They won't leave him alone. I worry about him, though he doesn't want me to, I do. The quest is over, but he's still suffering. I ask myself, what can I do, Samwise Gamgee? What can I do? While he lay on his bed, frightened and shivering, I embrace him in my arms and hold him, tell him everything will be all right. Tomorrow will be a good day. I want to think it will be a good day for my Mr. Frodo. And then I get that awful feeling again. Go away I say to it. Go away why don't you. And then it does. If only it would stay away. Well, I'm sitting here at my desk. It is night. Will the terrors come again for him? Please, let him sleep and dream good things, all that is good here in the Shire._**

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Sam paused at those words. Tired, he plopped his head against the oak chair. The need to sleep persuaded the quill in his hand to take a break from writing. He eventually also gave in to its powerful persuasion and placed the quill back inside the tiny jar of black ink. In the short distance behind him was his little bed. Before he retired, Sam meticulously read what he had written. Silently, he thanked Bilbo Baggins and Frodo for inspiring him to read and write. Another thing he was thankful for was the journal Frodo had given him for his birthday last year—the burgundy book he cherished since. Yawning, Sam gently closed the book and went to bed.

* * *

A warm, spring morning had arrived in Hobbiton. After Sam had finished his first breakfast of the day, he decided to visit Frodo. Anything else could wait. He had to make sure his master was okay. The stocky hobbit ventured outside his home on Bagshot Row. Birds chirped melodiously as they perched themselves on the trees. He stood for a moment, squinting up at the sunlight—the light that reflected off his beige long sleeve shirt and black breeches held up by suspenders. Sam breathed in the air and caught a whiff of something he knew all to well—the invigorating aroma from lush greenlands of the Shire. After reveling in what each morning brought to Hobbiton, Sam journeyed down the road that led to Bag End.

When he reached Frodo's home, Sam opened the gate. His large, hairy feet clambered up the steps and headed toward the round, green door. Sam hesitated…the door was slightly ajar. An unsettling feeling arose from the pit of his stomach and up to his racing heart. He extended his hand toward the brass knob. Slowly, he opened the door.

"Mr. Frodo?"

Sam stepped inside the tunneled hall of what was the parlor.

He hoped to hear his master's soft voice, only to be greeted by an eerie silence.

"Mr. Frodo?" He called again.

Nothing.

Baffled as to why Frodo didn't answer, Sam searched every room. And although he refused to accept the reality of the situation—he was indeed alone.

"Mr. Frodo!"

Sam hurried back to the door. There he stood at the circle, staring over the gate and panting from fear that gripped him.

All right, Samwise. Pull yourself together now. Maybe Mr. Frodo is taking his morning stroll.

Sam left Bag End and trekked out into the woods where Frodo enjoyed his tranquil walks. It was also the place where he would sit against a tree and be contented with reading a book. Sam felt a warm peace that soothed his soul. It wasn't only from the serenity of the woods, but knowing Frodo had to be there, safe and sound. And then, the peace left him. He longed for it to stay. He pleaded. It vanished, leaving the hobbit as fear returned to torment him again. His hazel eyes searched frantically for Frodo.

_He has to be here. Where is he?_

Sam's pace quickened as he continued to search.

_Where is he?_

Suddenly, the stout hobbit froze, and for a moment, he dared not breath. His eyes widened at the sight of a sprawled, gaunt body near one of the trees. Sam inched closer to the body he recognized. At first it seemed his screams were trapped in his throat until they spilled out of Sam's trembling lips.

"Mr. Frodo!!!"

Sam raced toward his master and collapsed on his knees beside him. He noticed Frodo's clothes—the white shirt with billowy sleeves tucked under a chestnut vest and breeches he wore yesterday. He stared at Frodo's face that was a sickly chalk-white, and the right side of his cheek was blemished with a fresh blue and red bruise. Fear blinded Sam, tricking him into thinking his beloved master had died. But something cleared the fog of deception. A weak moan gurgled from Frodo's throat.

"Mr. Frodo? Can you hear me?"

Frodo moaned again and opened his eyes. They rolled up to see a familiar face that always comforted him.

"Sam," Frodo whispered.

The gardener couldn't help but notice Frodo's shirt along with the vest was disheveled and soiled.

"What happened to you?"

Bewildered, Frodo answered, "I—I don't know. Oh, Sam, I'm so weak."

"It's all right, Mr. Frodo, I'll carry you back home."

Sam hoisted his frail master into his arms and carried him back to Bag End.

_Why don't they mind their business!_

Sam rolled his eyes at those who stood outside their homes. Their intrusive stares annoyed him. And when he glanced at an elder hobbit, he imagined what she was thinking about Frodo.

_What's wrong with the lad? What has happened to him?_

Sam shrugged off his foolish thinking. Maybe she didn't think anything at all. What mattered now was getting Frodo home. He pushed against the gate, opening it with the left side of his body and hurried up the steps to the door.

"You're home, Mr. Frodo," Sam said tenderly and rushed him into the quaint bedroom.

They were greeted by sunlight pouring through the windows. Its rays, inviting and peaceful, added a warm touch to the ambiance of the room.

Gently, Sam placed Frodo onto the bed. "I'll get something for that bruise."

Sam hated to leave him, even for a second. So he rushed into the kitchen, yanked one of the buckets and ran out to the pond by the well. He scooped up the water until the bucket was filled halfway, and then hehurried back to the house. Inside the kitchen, Sam grabbed a small basin and poured warm water into it. Sam searched for something else and when he found it, he grasped a towel from the pantry. Hastily, he returned to the bedroom. The gardener set the water-filled basin onto thewooden table and when he sat on the bed's edge, Sam looked down at Frodo who tucked himself into a fetal position. His eyes were closed and his hand clenched onto something around his neck—the chain that once held the ring. Now, it held a small white gem.

"Mr. Frodo, I'm back," said Sam, awaking his master.

Slowly, Frodo opened his sunken eyes.

Sam dipped the cloth into the water. With a gentle touch, he dabbed the bruise with the cloth, hoping the warm water would ease the swelling.

"What happened?"

Dazed, Frodo struggled to remember. "I don't know. Wait, I was sitting at my desk. I didn't want to go to sleep, Sam, but it came for me. I tried to fight it, and so I must have fallen asleep at the desk."

"And then what happened?" Sam questioned while he continued to soothe Frodo's injury with the cloth.

"I thought I was sleeping, and then I left to take a walk."

"Last night?"

Frodo shook his head. "Yes, but it all seemed like a dream. I don't remember anything else until I awoke and saw you beside me."

"You don't remember hurting yourself?"

"No."

Frustrated about the mystery of what happened, Sam sighed and hung the cloth over the side of the basin. At the moment, he preferred staring at the basin, avoiding Frodo's gaze. Every time they looked at each other, it pained him to see his master so fragile and tormented. Sam felt the hot tears stirring but forced them back. After composing himself, his empathetic gaze returned to Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo, I've been doing some thinking…maybe it's best I stay with you for a while, you know, keep an eye on you and make sure you're all right."

"Sam, you don't have to--,"

"I want to," the gardener insisted. "I have to take care of you."

Frodo sat up and leaned closer to Sam. "What about…"

Sam waited for Frodo to continue, but when he didn't, the silence provoked his curiosity about the unfinished question.

"Mr. Frodo, what is it?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing, Sam." A benevolent smile softened his lips. Frodo added, "You can stay."

Sam returned the smile and placed a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder.

Suddenly they were startled by three swift knocks on the front door.

"I'll see who it is," said Sam.

When he left the bedroom and headed for the door, Sam grumbled to himself. "Hope it ain't the folk being nosy. Mr. Frodo needs to rest."

Irritated, Sam flung the door open and there standing before him were two familiar hobbits.

"Merry? Pippin? What are you doing here?"

Puzzled, they both eyed one another and then they looked at Sam again.

A defensive Merry replied, "What, we're not allowed to see Mr. Frodo?"

"No…I mean, yes."

"Well, then," Pippin cheerily interrupted, "We came to ask him to join us at the Green Dragon. You can come along, too!"

Sam peered over his shoulder, wondering if Frodo heard the conversation.

Suspicious, Merry crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "What's going on? Is Mr. Frodo all right?"

"He's tired is all," Sam snapped. "He needs to rest."

Offended at the way Sam spoke to them, they turned to walk down the steps.

"Wait," Sam began, "I'm sorry. I just need to be here with him for a while."

Pippin accepted his apology with a warm smile. "We hope he feels better. And if you change your mind, you'll know where we'll be."

Sam nodded, and then he closed the door.

He returned to the bedroom and saw his master resting his back against a propped pillow. Before he sat down, Frodo spoke.

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"I was afraid you heard." Sam sat beside him again.

"You need to have fun."

"I don't want you worrying about me. Besides, I don't feel like going to the Green Dragon right now."

Frodo raised his brows. His water-blue eyes brightened along with his grin.

"Really? Since when don't you ever feel like going to the Green Dragon?"

Sam knew Frodo was right and sighed.

"Go on, Sam."

"Mr. Frodo…"

"Go."

* * *

The usual crowd of men and women were gathered at the Green Dragon Inn. Celtic-like music along with laughter and singing resonated around the bar. Sam sat across from Merry and Pippin at one of the tables. His lips touched the rim of the tall mug, and while he sipped some ale, the gardener somberly watched a couple embraced in a cheerful dance. Sam's eyes skirted to Rosie Cotton, the barmaid he admired every time he visited the Green Dragon. She met his gaze with a coy smile. He smiled back, blushing slightly. The flirting between them was interrupted by the memory of a conversation that transpired an hour ago…

_"Go on," Frodo insisted. "I'll rest while you're gone."_

_"I don't like leaving you alone."_

_"I know, Sam, but you have to. Please, go. And while you're there, don't forget to dance with Rosie…"_

"Master Samwise?"

Merry's voice hauled him back to the present.

Sam managed to only utter, "Huh?"

"It's Mr. Frodo isn't it?"

Unable to hide the pain etched on his face, Sam nodded and a melancholy sigh escaped from his lips.

Concerned, Pippin Took rested his chin atop the palm of his hand. "I hoped when we returned to the Shire, Mr. Frodo would feel better."

Sam erased his gloomy expression and replaced it with one of strength and determination.

"He'll get better," Sam convinced himself. "I know he will."

* * *

_**24, March, 3020**_

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_**Mr. Frodo is sleeping now. He was afraid, but I stayed with him in his room until he fell asleep. I'm in one of the guestrooms and this is where I'll stay for a while. I told my old Gaffer what I had to do, but he was not at all pleased. Sometimes I get the feeling he thinks Mr. Frodo is nothing but trouble for me. It don't matter. I have to do what's best for my master. I thought about what happened earlier when I found Mr. Frodo in the woods. Somehow the terrors led him there. I heard this from some of the folk, talk of people walking in their sleep. I cooked dinner for him and I know he hoped I wouldn't notice, but I saw how he picked at his food. He's so frail from not eating much. I try to be strong for him, but sometimes I get frightened and feel so helpless. The chain around his neck, he never takes it off. I watch the way he holds onto it, as if he still had the ring. When he insisted I go to the Green Dragon, I went on like he told me to, but it didn't feel right. I wanted to have a good time with Merry and Pippin, like we use to. Well, I did get the chance to see Rosie again. I wondered what Mr. Frodo was trying to say when he asked me, what about... but he didn't finish. Then I realized it must have been Rosie on his mind. I love her and I want to marry her. Will Mr. Frodo be okay when I tell him how I feel about marrying her? I don't know what to do. If I marry Rosie, who will take care of you, Mr. Frodo? I made a promise...a promise.**_

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Frustrated, Sam slammed the journal shut. He buried his face in his hands and squeezed his tired eyes. When he looked up, he stared at the book illuminated by a flame dancing inside a small, glass lantern.

_I have to get some sleep _

He had written enough for the night. Sam left his desk and carried the lantern over to the table beside his bed. He slipped under the covers and blew out the candlelight. Darkness engulfed him, but as his eyes adjusted to darkness, Sam peeked through the window and was delighted to see the welcoming light of the rising moon.

_Sam's eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. _

_Where am I?_

_His bed was gone. As a matter of fact, the entire room no longer existed. Sam found himself on the cold ground in a place that was not the Shire. The olive-green cloak he wore kept him warm as an icy wind roared around what looked like a dark forest. Sam sat up and remembered he wasn't alone._

"_Mr. Frodo?"_

_Suddenly, he heard a familiar, dreadful sound—bloodcurdling screams of the hideous winged creature flying overhead. The Nazgul had found them again. Sam cried out as the screams permeated and clawed at his soul, torturing him so that if he didn't cover his ears, he was certain to go mad. _

_Sam saw Frodo standing in the presence of the Nazgul hovering above him. _

_No. No._

_He knew what would happen when Frodo was in its presence. The temptation of the ring grew stronger. His master could no longer resist, inching the ring closer to his finger._

_Despite the agony he suffered from the Fell Beast's screams, Sam stumbled toward Frodo. His eyes widened with horror at what he hoped to prevent. Frodo Baggins had vanished, and he feared that time he would never see him again._

"_Nooooo!!!!"_

Sam sprang from his pillow, gasping in the darkness. He was back in the room, back to Bag End. It was just a dream. But then why did he still hear the screams? No, they weren't screams from the beast. As Sam drifted more and more into reality, the screams were clear now.

He flung the covers off of him and cried, "Mr. Frodo!"

_**TBC**_

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**_A/N: Please R&R. Would love to know what you think!_**


	2. Come back, Mr Frodo

**_Author's note: I'm very grateful for those who reviewed and have been enjoying this story so far. As always, constructive feedback is welcomed and very important to me because I want to know what you like and don't like about the story. Ok, without further ado, here's chapter two!_**

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**_Rating: PG-13 for some disturbing content_**

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**_Sam sprang from his pillow, gasping in the darkness. He was back in the room, back to Bag End. It was just a dream. But then why did he still hear the screams? No, they weren't screams from the beast. As Sam drifted more and more into reality, the screams were clear now._**

**_He flung the covers off of him and cried, "Mr. Frodo!"_**

* * *

**_Chapter two: Come back, Mr. Frodo_ **

Sam, carrying the lantern, stumbled toward Frodo's door and when he stormed inside, his master wasn't in bed. On the other side of the room, a terrified Frodo huddled himself in the corner.

Sam recognized Frodo's expression…the one that scowled at him when the ring had taken possession over his master. He set the lantern onto the desk. Carefully, Sam inched toward Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo?" said Sam, extending his hand to reassure his friend that he was there to comfort him. "It's all right. You just had another one of those dreams."

Candlelight from the lantern fell eerily onto Frodo's gaunt face. His brilliant blue eyes were revealed, wide and glaring back at Sam like a madman. The collar of his nightshirt was open just enough to see the chain around his neck, and the white gem that glittered in the light.

"He's here!" Frodo screamed, grasping the chain his right hand.

Puzzled, Sam scrunched his brows. "Who's here?"

"I hear his voice, and he can see me, Sam."

The gardener remembered what Frodo was talking about…Sauron.

Sam edged closer. "Mr. Frodo, he's gone. After the ring was destroyed, he was destroyed with it. He can't hurt you anymore."

Sam reached out for him, but Frodo jerked away.

He growled, "You're lying!"

"No, I'm not lying. He's gone. It's over, now."

Slowly, Frodo stood from the floor, sliding up against the wall. He kept wary eyes on Sam as he crept along the wall.

Sam made sure he didn't let Frodo out of his sight, watching him like a parent would do to a child sneaking off to do something malicious.

"Mr. Frodo, come now, you need to get back to bed."

Frodo continued to slide away from him. His face was glossed with sweat and his breathing…

Shallow.

Erratic.

Frodo's eyes locked on to something and when he ran across the room, he grasped it—the lantern. He held it up. Candlelight disclosed the hatred that twisted his facial features.

"Mr—Mr. Frodo," Sam stuttered nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Why didn't you let me fall in the lava?" Frodo shouted, his voice laced with anger. "I should have joined Smeagol! I don't deserve to be here, Sam." Frodo looked up at the flame inside the lantern and then he gazed at Sam again with a menacing glint in his eyes. "Sam, you know what would happen if I drop this?"

Horrified at the thought of what Frodo wanted to do, Sam frantically shook his head.

"No. No!"

Frodo taunted Sam with a mischievous grin. "It must be done."

Trembling, Sam watched Frodo's fingers slipping one by one off the handle.

Frodo released it…

Falling.

Sam lunged toward the lantern. His heart raced along with him, for he knew if he didn't catch it, Frodo would go up in flames with everything else inside the room. He leaped, shoving Frodo out of the way. And before the lantern had the chance to shatter against the floor, Sam cushioned it in the palm of his hands. He slipped, plummeting onto the floor, but managed to keep the lantern safe.

Sam couldn't believe what he had done, amazed and frightened all at once while he held the lantern. A few traces of sweat oozed down from under the bangs of his golden hair. He wet his dry lips. Cautious, Sam stood with the lantern while the frenetic beating of his heart pulsated through his veins. He gently placed the lantern back onto the desk. And when Sam turned around, Frodo grabbed the collar of his nightshirt.

"Why?" Frodo screamed into Sam's face. "Why did you stop me?"

"Because…" Sam hesitated and frowned. "I can't let you destroy yourself."

Frodo leaned closer, glaring into his eyes. "Why?"

Sam wanted to answer the question, but he only nodded as the tears welled in his eyes.

Frodo shivered. Boiling anger faded from his face. "Oh, Sam, what's happening?" Frightened, his fingers clenched the fabric of Sam's nightshirt. "What's wrong with me?"

Sam grabbed Frodo in his arms and held him tightly. That's all he could do but just hold him as they cried together.

* * *

_Don't forget the shire…what it's like. It's spring now, Mr. Frodo. It's…_

Sam squeezed his eyes that burned from the persistent tears. Because of the pain, the conversation in his mind had been silenced. He opened his eyes again and after smearing the sticky liquid from off his cheeks, Sam gazed at Frodo sleeping under the covers. He tried to fight the memories before the Quest, but like his tears, they were persistent…

_**Planting flowers in Bilbo's garden, and when Sam looked up, there was Frodo in the window, smiling down at him. His face always glowed with a child-like innocence, a hobbit unscarred. **_

_**Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin…having fun at the Green Dragon, eating, drinking, smoking their pipes, frolicking together with the folk.**_

_**Bilbo's birthday party…oh the fun they had that night…**_

Flustered, Sam bolted away from the bed. He grabbed the lantern, breezed toward the door and braked in his tracks. He wanted to turn around, stay with Frodo and made sure he was there in case the terrors woke him again. Instead, Sam swallowed a deep breath and closed the door behind him.

* * *

_**24, March 3020**_

_**I thought I wrote enough today, but I can't keep this to myself, what I mean is what happened tonight. I might as well tell you. I have those night terrors, too. It comes to me like it does Frodo, only, it's worse for him. I woke from my dream and heard him screaming. I ran to him. His mind is so tortured. And though that blasted ring is destroyed, in his mind, it's still alive. Each day, I feel he's slipping away from me and from everyone. During the Quest, I was always frightened for him, even more now. He took the lantern and wanted to destroy himself with the fire. What if I didn't stop him? Well, I did. But for the moment, I saw anger in his eyes because of what I did, because I care, but it's more than just that. He asked me why I stopped him. I wanted to tell him that I…I love him. And it's my love for him that kept me by his side during the Quest, and even now.**_

Sam closed his journal. Exhausted emotionally and physically, he rested his face onto the cool cover of the burgundy book. He entwined his arms around him, as if he was cold. But it wasn't from any chill. Sam cradled his body, soothing himself while he stared at the lantern and at the way the flames danced. He remembered what Frodo said about Smeagol…

"_I have to believe he can come back."_

And then Sam whispered aloud, "Mr. Frodo, I have to believe you can come back."

* * *

The rays of the mid-day sun had found Frodo, immersing him within its warm glow. He stood against the dresser. His arms were crossed tensely against his chest and he looked out into the space of his bedroom as if in deep thought. He was immaculately dressed in his usual attire: Billowy shirt, vest and breeches with suspenders. Sunlight exposed his pale face and dark circles beneath his eyes, but he couldn't let his appearance stop him from going out. Frodo's sorrowful eyes roved to the window. He knew where Sam was. 

Sam tended the garden outside Bag End. It pleased him to see that the seeds he planted had bloomed into a beautiful array of rainbow-colored flowers. On his knees, he buried a few more seeds under the dirt. He stopped, sensing someone was watching him.

Sam looked up. "Mr. Frodo?" He said quizzically to his master standing at the door.

"The garden," Frodo commented with a tender smile. "It's beautiful. I haven't forgotten that, Sam."

Sam stood and climbed up the steps to greet him. Before he could answer, Frodo interrupted.

"Let's take a walk."

Sam looked down at his gritty hands. "I have to clean up first."

"I'll wait here."

Frodo sat down on the steps while Sam had gone inside.

The woods…this time, it was a pleasant walk, not like before when Sam searched for Frodo. They strolled under many trees with fresh, green leaves of early spring. Silence wedged between them as they journeyed on, and while birds fluttered above, performing their harmonious concertos.

And then the silence was broken.

"We'll stop here, Sam."

Frodo took a break near his favorite tree. He leaned his forehead against it.

Sam sat down against the tree and breathed in the sweet aroma of fresh grass. When he looked up, he saw Frodo, his forehead pressed into wood and staring at him.

Frodo uttered, "I need to talk about last night."

"Mr. Frodo, don't worry about it, I--,"

"No, Sam. I need to do this. Don't stop me from telling you how I feel."

Sam nodded, agreeing with him. "I'm sorry."

Frodo turned and rested the back of his head against the tree. He stared at the sun. Brilliant fragments of its rays shimmered like jewels between the leaves.

Frodo drew in a deep breath and then he continued.

"Last night…I still don't understand it. And I'm ashamed. But, it's not the only thing I'm ashamed of." He raised his right hand for Sam to see—the hand with four fingers. "It doesn't bother you, or Merry and Pippin. The others, I'm not sure. Sometimes I see their stares, whether I'm at the Green Dragon or walking about. Maybe I'm just imagining it. I want to think I am. I really want to, Sam."

Defensive of his master, Sam bellowed, "Who cares what the folk think! You're not different because of what happened to your hand."

Frodo ignored him and went on. "Middle-earth is saved. I did what I set out to do." He shook his head, blinking back the tears. "No."

Astonished at what he heard, Sam grimaced. "What are you talking about?"

Frodo sank onto his knees in front of Sam. "I failed, and you know it's the truth! I claimed the ring to be my own. I tried and couldn't resist it any longer. It terrifies me to even think of what would have happened if Smeagol didn't come along, like you said!"

"Stop it!" Sam cried. "Stop it! I don't wanna hear you talk like that. You carried such a burden that not even I could have carried. You have to understand that, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo sadly nodded. "I know it was a burden, but I still feel like I've failed."

He tugged at the chain around his neck.

"I can't take it off, Sam. Even now, I wish I had the ring. This chain is the only thing I have that reminds me of it. And so, I'm ashamed of what I feel…what I've become. My soul will forever be tainted by the mark I bear from the Nazgul blade. The pain will never leave. The dreams will continue to haunt me. Am I not a burden to you, Samwise?"

"No!" The gardener insisted.

Frodo stared intently into Sam's eyes. "I shall ask you again, why? Why do you want to be my friend, even after everything that has happened? What I still desire, though I cannot have it. It doesn't shame you to be with me?"

Sam's gaze dropped to the ground. Slowly, endearingly, his eyes climbed up Frodo's vest and locked onto his master's face.

His voice quivered. "No. I'm not shamed of you. I--,"

Sam couldn't finish what he wanted to say. Instead, his face caved into his hands.

For the first time since knowing Sam, Frodo could not utter the words that were trapped in his mind. And not only were the words frozen, his entire body froze as well. He stared in disbelief at his devoted gardener spilling out choking sobs into his hands.

Frodo peeled Sam's hands away from his tear-soaked face. And then he embraced him close to his lean body. Frodo gently laid the right side of his face against Sam's cheek.

He closed his eyes and whispered in his ear, "I know, Sam. I know.

But you have to move on. You can't be torn in two."

Sam squeezed his arms around Frodo's thin form. He vigorously shook his head.

Frodo tightened his grip to calm Sam down. Again, he whispered…

"We'll go to the Green Dragon tonight. We'll have fun, and you'll see Rosie."

They rocked together in a soothing rhythm.

"Okay, Sam? That's what we'll do."

He felt Sam's head nod against his face.

Frodo smiled and they remained there for a while under the canopy of trees that swayed in the warm, gentle breeze.

* * *

As the sun left hobbiton, leaving a dazzling display of sherbet twilight across the sky, three swift knocks rapped at Frodo's door. When Frodo opened the circle, it didn't surprise him to see Pippin standing there with a perky smile stretching across his lips. There standing beside him was Merry who also greeted him with a wide grin. 

Pippin said, "It's been a long time since you've been to the Green Dragon, hasn't it Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo smiled. "Yes, it has."

They all broke out into laughter and pulled each other into a hearty hug. While they held onto each other, Merry turned to see Sam moping up to them.

"Master Samwise, you're coming with us too?"

He nodded.

And then they drew him into their hug.

Frodo watched them and knew Pippin and Merry were ecstatic to see them all together again…like old times.

* * *

Inside the Green Dragon, the four hobbits sat at their usual table, laughing and enjoying their ale. Sam peeked every moment or so at Frodo. He was good at hiding what he felt around others, but Sam knew better. He sensed Frodo was only forcing himself to have fun with him and his cousins. Then his eyes darted over to Rosie at the bar. She looked beautiful tonight. Powder blue ribbons ornamented ruffled cuffs of her short sleeves. An apron, the same color as her ribbons, flowed delicately along her white dress. This time, he boldly left the table, weaved through the crowd and sat down at the bar. 

Sam flattered her with one of his shy smiles. "Hi, Rosie."

Rosie's eyes brightened, and she didn't care to hide the fact that she was happy to see him.

"Sam!"

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to dance the last time I was here. Well, I was wondering if you…"

Before he could finish his invitation, she graciously extended her hand.

Thrilled, Sam took her hand and guided her out into the middle of the bar where they danced.

Frodo watched the way they danced…so happy together. It was the only time he felt joy, to see Sam happy.

After what seemed like a few hours had passed, Frodo stood from the table.

"Well," he said to Merry and Pippin, "I've been here long enough."

Merry replied, "Leaving already?"

"I'm tired and I need to rest."

Pippin placed his hand on Frodo's left shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"We're happy you came out with us."

Sam twirled Rosie around in his arms. His face beamed. And when he spun around toward the table where he sat moments before, the grin shrank from his lips. Frodo was leaving by himself.

_He's alone. He can't be alone!_

While Frodo walked past them, it seemed to Sam, time slowed down for just a second to see his master smiling back at him. The smile that told him it would be okay. Sam didn't have to be with him on his journey back home.

And Frodo's smile also told him something else…

_It's okay. I know you love her._

Sam smiled back at Frodo, watching him until he left.

He returned his attention back to Rosie and continued the dance.

* * *

"You know what happens when you drink too much," An annoyed Sam said to Pippin while they headed to Bag End. 

Pippin giggled and threw his arms around Sam and Merry.

"Just having fun," Pippin answered in a giddy voice. "No shame in that, ain't that right, Merry?"

"Whoa!!!" Merry exclaimed as he and Sam were being tugged to the left and right.

Sam grumbled silently, thinking they would never reach Bag End at this rate.

With Merry's help, he straightened Pippin in his grasp.

"It's getting late, Pippin," Sam told him. "Come on, we have to move along now."

Finally they reached Frodo's home. Sam noticed a light was on inside the living room. Frodo was that way, courteous and looking out for Sam if he happened to be out late. He didn't want him to walk into darkness.

They stopped at the gate.

Sam shook his head at Pippin and then he shot a glance at Merry.

"You better not lose him." He joked.

Pippin stumbled again and grinned. "Sam, Rosie will make a good wife she will."

Now Merry was annoyed and straightened him up. "Come on, Pip."

Sam smiled while watching them stagger away from the gate, and then he turned toward the house. When he entered the living room, he stepped into silence. He wondered if Frodo was sleeping or reading. After he undressed into his nightshirt, Sam knocked twice on Frodo's door.

"Come in, Sam."

He opened the door and peeked inside to see Frodo in bed, propped against the pillow.

Sam acknowledged Frodo's welcome with a warm smile and when he ambled toward the bed, he sat beside him.

"I was happy to see you with Rosie."

Sam wavered, but then he felt he should tell him.

"I asked her to marry me."

Ecstatic, Frodo's eyes beamed. "Sam, I'm happy for you! So, when is the wedding?"

"We decided on waiting till May."

"Sam, my dear Sam. You deserve Rosie. You deserve to be happy."

"I want you to be happy, too, Mr. Frodo."

His master shifted down under the covers and sank his head deep into the fluffy pillow.

"Don't concern yourself about me." Frodo's eyes closed a little. Sleep arrived for him. "All that matters to me now is your happiness…"

Sam opened his mouth, but when he saw Frodo drifted off to sleep, he smiled instead and blew out the candlelight.

* * *

_**25, March 3020**_

_**Today, Mr. Frodo and I talked in the woods. I hate what the memories are doing to him; the guilt and shame he feels. He just needs time and he'll be okay again. When we talked, I wanted to tell him that I love him. But I didn't have to. He knows. I finally told Rosie how much I love her and we're getting married. I don't understand it, why don't I feel right telling Mr. Frodo I want to marry her? He's happy for me and yet, I feel I've betrayed him...**_

* * *

In the middle of the night, Frodo's eyes jarred open.

The window.

Something was out there.

Frightened, he scrambled out of bed and crawled over to the window. He tried desperately to fight it, but it lured him, called to him. Frodo peeked through the window.

He saw it…

The Black Rider.

It waited outside the house. Stalking. Wanting him.

Frodo looked away and collapsed onto the floor. He clutched the mark under his left shoulder. The pain he remembered so vividly, as if the blade pierced his flesh again and again. Frodo screamed. He tried not to, for he knew Sam would be at the door any minute.

"Mr. Frodo!" he heard outside the door.

Panting, Frodo yelled, "I'm fine, Sam. Please, go to sleep."

He listened to Sam's footsteps until they faded away from the door.

Shivering, Frodo peered out the window again. The Black Rider was gone.

Realizing it was just a memory he tucked himself into a fetal position and cried.

_**TBC**_


	3. The beginning of all things

**_Author's note: Again, I want to thank those who reviewed the first two chapters. Hugs to you all! I always appreciate feedback and encouragement, which helped me finish this story. And now I present to you the final chapter!_**

Chapter three: _**The beginning of all things**_

_**13, April 3020**_

_**It's been a month since the last time Mr. Frodo was ill. I'm happy to see he's doing better. The terrors have left him alone. I was going to leave and go home but then he told me after Rosie and I are married, he insisted we stay with him, and so that's what we'll do. I said to him, see Mr. Frodo, you're getting better. You just need time. We've been through so much. How can we expect these things to go away in a day, a month or even a year? I remember when he told me, I'm not the same Frodo Baggins you knew once. I know he's not the same and I also know he can come back. He's sleeping now. I'll go check on him. Sometimes I go into his room and just sit beside him, watch him sleep. And when he's sleeping peacefully, I smile. **_

* * *

Frodo opened his eyes. He squinted, trying to make sense of what lurked near the door. Moonlight was not its friend, for what ever it was seemed to despise the light that exposed its misshapen form.

Frodo gasped and bolted upright from his pillow.

It slinked closer, like a menacing shadow across the room.

When it reached the end of his bed, the familiar bulging blue eyes glared at him in the moonlight. And a voice growled from out of the shadows.

"My Preeeecious."

Frodo trembled.

"Smeagol? No, it can't be!"

Gollum's mischievous grin revealed his foul arrowed teeth. "Yes, it's me, master. Come to Smeagol." Inching closer, he added, "I knows what you go through. Smeagol knows."

Frodo slid away from him, backing up against the oak headboard.

"Get away from me!"

Gollum knew he couldn't fool him like he had done before. His entire demeanor had changed from the timid Smeagol to the hideous Gollum. His eyes blazed and an odious rage mangled his features that had already been deformed.

He bounded toward Frodo with frantic hands that wrestled for the chain around his neck.

"It's ours," He snarled. "We wants it!"

"No!" Frodo screamed, mustering the strength to shove him off. He managed to protect the chain with his left hand and with his right, Frodo's fingers dug into the slimy flesh on Gollum's face.

A scream blared into his hobbit ears, but it wasn't from Gollum.

"Mr. Frodo!"

Like waves of the ocean receding from the shore, so did the darkness roll away from him and out of the room.

Now there was light, beaming from the lantern that sat on his desk.

And when Frodo looked up, he realized his fingers dug into Sam's flesh, not Gollum. Just another delusion that returned, and here he was, hurting Sam…his beloved Sam.

Frodo released his grip on Sam's face. His heart sank when he saw the scratches. Some that were deeper had begun to bleed.

"Sam!" he uttered, a quivering whisper.

Nauseated by the horror of what he had done, Frodo leaped out of bed and raced out of the room.

Sam plopped onto the bed. He winced from the pain that stung his cheeks. Then he heard the sound of Frodo retching inside the bathroom.

Weary, Sam cradled his face in his left hand. He hated to hear Frodo sick again. Every time Frodo suffered, he also felt the pain. It infuriated him and in his mind, he screamed at the ring, at everything that had happened.

Footsteps shuffled back into the room.

Sam looked up to see Frodo leaning against the door. He saw the shame etched onto his face for being sick. Again, his skin was a pasty white and under his eyes…puffy, dark circles conveyed the restless sleep he had been having.

Frodo moped toward the bed. Drained from the nightmares, delusions and being sick a few moments ago, sluggishly, he sat beside Sam.

The gardener didn't look at him. Instead, his melancholy eyes were fixated onto the tiled floor.

"Sam…"

Fighting to stop himself from shivering, he answered, "Are you okay, Mr. Frodo?"

"Sam, look at me."

Slowly, he turned and when he gazed at Frodo, he saw not only the shame of being sick, but shame of what Frodo had done to his face.

"What have I done to you? I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. You didn't mean to."

"No, Sam, it's not all right. I won't go back to sleep. If I do, I may hurt you again."

"You have to sleep, Mr. Frodo."

He shook his head. "No. I won't. I have to keep myself busy."

Frodo stood and walked gingerly toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

Frodo hesitated.

With his back toward Sam, he replied softly, "Don't worry, I'm not leaving the house. There's still more I need to write."

And then Frodo left Sam alone.

After Sam tended the few scratches on his cheeks, he went back to his room. There, he lay on his bed and stared listlessly at the ceiling. Numbness spread to every limb in his body. At first, he didn't blink, but how long could he hold back the reflexes that were unavoidable. Finally, he blinked several times.

Usually he would visit his journal and pour out all his feelings to it. Instead, his exhausted, sprawled body remained on the bed. His mind raced. So many thoughts, some that frightened him. And then they became voices, assaulting him.

_Do you really think you can help Frodo?_

_The lad is sick, too far gone. There's nothing you can do for him now._

_Time you say? How much more? He's a burden to you. Can't you see that?_

_Look at what he's done to your face. It's getting worse, Samwise, not better._

_You are only fooling yourself._

_Let him go._

_There's nothing you can do, Samwise._

_Nothing._

Sam threw his hands against his ears, squeezing them as hard as he can to silence the voices. Suddenly, they stopped. Sam peeled his hands away from his ears and now he felt shame, the shame of doubt.

He plunged his face into the pillow—the pillow that muffled the cries of a hobbit torn in two.

* * *

_**14, April 3020 **_

_**It's morning. I never thought it would come. The nights seem so long. I wonder what this morning will bring for Mr.Frodo...for us. **_

The morning sun retired behind angry dark clouds. Torrential spring rain had decided it was its turn to visit Hobbiton. In the dining area of Frodo's home, the two hobbits sat at a wooden table, eating their first breakfast of the day. Sam cooked a hearty meal of eggs, tomatoes and bacon. They sat across from one another, eating in silence. The only thing distracting them every now and then was the rain plummeting against the windows.

Sam peeked up from his plate and studied the way Frodo ate, picking at his food. A month ago he gained the weight he had lost, and now he was frail again. His master appeared so anemic.

Breaking the silence, Sam said, "Mr. Frodo I hope you were able to go back to sleep."

Frodo didn't answer. He stared at the scraps of food that nauseated him.

"Mr. Frodo…oh no, you didn't stay up all night?"

"I tried. Sometime during the night, I must have fallen asleep because I had another dream." Frodo cringed at the food. He wanted to avoid being sick again and pushed the plate aside. "I've had enough."

"But," Sam started, "You hardly ate anything?"

"If I have anymore, I won't be able to hold it down."

Sam sensed Frodo was irritated by his persistence in wanting him to eat, and so he nodded solemnly.

Changing the subject, Sam asked, "You had another dream?"

"Yes, but…this dream was different. It didn't frighten me like the others. Shall I share it with you?"

"I want to hear it," Sam replied eagerly.

And then Frodo began his tale about the dream…

_He awoke and found himself in the woods bathed in brilliant sunshine, but he knew these woods were not of the shire. He had been there before. Trees towered above him—a canopy of autumn gold and rustic brown. And when he turned, there she was, standing by what looked like a fountain._

_Lady Galadriel._

_Waves of her blonde hair flowed delicately down her back. She glowed like the light of the moon. Even the white dress she wore was a reflection of light and beauty to Frodo's eyes. Her smile…_

_Gentle._

_Radiant._

_Inviting him closer to where she stood, which now he recognized was Galadriel's mirror._

_"Frodo," she spoke softly, "You look so troubled."_

_Galadriel extended her arms to him. "Come."_

_He didn't hesitate, gliding toward her arms. And as he walked, Frodo felt the chain loosen. It slipped from around his neck, falling like a feather. He looked down and saw it on the ground. His first instinct would be to pick it up and it surprised him that he left it there, walking past it._

_Frodo was lovingly cradled into Galadriel's embrace._

_"Rest now, Frodo." Her voice seemed to sing to him, elegant whispers that wafted in the tranquil breeze._

_"I'm frightened, Lady Galadriel."_

_"I know, but you're in my arms now. The shadows are no more, only light. Rest…Frodo of the Shire."_

_Tears flooded his eyes as he reveled in the peace that stilled his tormented soul. A peace he never thought he could ever feel again. And then he closed his eyes._

When Frodo finished telling Sam about his dream, he noticed Sam's expression, like that of a child riveted by a bedtime story. He knew that look very well, how Sam was awed by the elves, especially Galadriel.

Frodo asked, "What do you think of it?"

"It's beautiful. You need to have more of those kinds of dreams. I'm hoping you will, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo stared at Sam and sighed.

The gardener's face scrunched into a puzzled frown. "What is it?"

"What will your Gaffer think when he sees those scratches?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'll tell him a cat did it."

"A cat? I don't have a cat."

"Well, I'll tell him I came across one in the woods."

Frodo arched his left brow. "Do you really think he'll believe that story?"

Sam thought for a moment and then he came back with a swift and brief…

"No."

Frodo chuckled, shaking his head.

It pleased Sam to see Frodo smile, even if it was just for a moment. He wished it lasted longer. Silently he sighed at the somber blue eyes that met his.

"The Gaffer will suspect I had something to do with it. He already thinks I'm mad."

"Now, Mr. Frodo, I don't want you worrying about what my

Gaffer or anyone thinks."

"I try not to, Sam. Believe me. It's not easy."

Frodo suddenly perked, growing tired of 'him' as the topic of conversation.

"Well, you and Rosie will be married in two weeks. I'll help with the preparations. Oh, Sam, that day will be a beautiful day!"

A cheery smile lifted Sam's pink cheeks. "Yes, it will, Mr. Frodo. It will."

* * *

_**14, April 3020**_

_**It is evening now. The rain has stopped. Mr. Frodo is writing in the Red Book again. I'm in my room and I ought to tell you more about what happened today. While we were eating breakfast, Mr. Frodo told me about a dream he had. A beautiful dream it was about Lady Galadriel. He asked me what I thought. Well, I don't know what to think, other than maybe he wishes he could see her again. I know I wish I could go back to Lothlorien. I never thought I would see anything so beautiful outside the Shire. I've also been thinkin' about Rosie. We'll be married soon...my beautiful Rosie.**_

* * *

_**1, May 3020**_

**I'm in my room again, but this time it's not mine, it belongs to Rosie, too. Oh what a beautiful day it was, just like Mr. Frodo said it would be. Everyone attended the wedding. Rosie looked so pretty with flowers in her hair. Before we kissed, I thought about the time when Mr. Frodo and I were laying on a rock at Mount Doom. We were surrounded by lava and I thought, well, this is it. I'll never see Rosie again. And so when I kissed her, I embraced her close to me, holding on as tight as I could. Everyone cheered and clapped. I turned, smiling at the crowd and when Rosie tossed her bouquet, I smiled again when Pippin caught it. And there was Mr. Frodo. The night terrors and his illness had drained him so, and yet when I looked at him, his face glowed, like it did before the madness. He's happy for me. And I still hope he can find the happiness he once had.**

"Sam?"

Sam looked up to see a beaming Rosie in a white, ruffled nightgown. She stood by his desk, smiling down at him.

Sam returned the smile, closed his journal and dunked the quill back into the jar of black ink.

"Rosie." He stood and locked his arms around her waist. Sam pressed his forehead against hers and gazed lovingly into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Samwise Gamgee."

Suddenly, shrieking cries had broken the rapturous moment between them.

Sam spun on his hobbit feet and listened as Frodo's cries pierced the door.

His looked at Rosie and saw the concern in her eyes for Frodo and for him. And even though it was their honeymoon night, she nodded, insisting he should go to Frodo.

Sam crossed over to the door, and just as he was about to entwine his fingers around the brass knob…

Silence.

He listened for a few moments, straining to hear the cries. All he heard was the frantic beating of his own heart.

Sam let out a deep, relieved sigh and started back to Rosie.

She guided him to the bed and there they sat on its edge.

Sam relaxed in her comforting embrace. As he laid his head onto her chest, tension that tightened every muscle in his body had ebbed away. Silently, he thanked Rosie for that, because he knew she had been aware of what he was going through. Her fingers stroked his golden hair and gently, she rocked him in her arms.

_**18, September 3021**_

_**It's been a year and several months since Rosie and I have been married. In March, she had a child and she named her Elanor, my beautiful little Elanor. She loves Mr. Frodo. It brings joy to my heart when I see her run to him. And,**_

A soft knock on the door interrupted Sam's writing. He heard the door open slightly.

"Sam?"

He turned in his chair and looked around to see Rosie peeking inside the room.

"Yes, Rosie?"

"It's Mr. Frodo. He wants to see you."

Sam entered Frodo's room and watched him standing by the window. He just stood there, looking out thoughtfully.

"Mr. Frodo? You want to see me?"

"Close the door, Sam."

After Sam had closed the door, he joined his friend at the window. He waited for Frodo to say more and then…

"Autumn is here," said Frodo. "I love the spring and summer in the shire, but there's something about autumn that is a beautiful sight to my eyes as well."

Frodo turned and faced Sam. "Uncle Bilbo has been granted a special privilege by the elves. He is going to the undying lands."

Sam's eyes widened. He was always fascinated when he heard Gandalf speak about the undying lands.

"Valinor," said Sam with awe in his voice.

Frodo replied, "He's leaving on the twenty-first. I have to journey with him along with Merry and Pippin. We're going to the harbor at the Grey Havens. Will you accompany me also, Sam?"

"Mr. Frodo, you know where ever you want to go, I'll be there with you."

Frodo smiled and then he placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing it tenderly.

Sam sat at his desk, immersed in the mid-day sunlight that flooded the room. He stared solemnly at his journal. Tears blurred his vision, and it pained him to swallow. The lump in his throat was like an irritating pest that refused to go away. Sam sighed and decided that writing about it would be the best thing. He reached for the quill and opened the journal…

_**6, October 3021**_

_**I'm back from my journey. I thought I'd left the Grey Havens with Merry, Pippin and Mr. Frodo. But, he didn't come back with us. He told me Bilbo was going and all along, he knew he was leaving too. At first I was angry with him for not telling me, but now I understand.**_

**Sam stopped to smudge a tear from under his eye, and then he continued…**

_**He was only thinking of me. I wanted him to be happy again and hoped he would get better, but not in the Shire, like he told me. When he held me in his arms, I screamed to myself, why? Why do you have to leave to get better? Don't you know I'll never see you again? Then I realized all the pain he was going through, he had to go. In Valinor, he'll find peace. That's the place where he can find happiness again. And when he stepped on the ship, he turned to look at us. I saw the glow on his face again and the smile that told me everything will be all right. And here I am, back in Bag End. Mr. Frodo left a letter for me in an envelope. He said to me,** I had to leave Sam. I hope you understand. I tried to stay here in the Shire. I couldn't. And I believe you also know this. It's for the best. You have a life with Rosie and Elanor. I want you to move on with your life. I would only be a burden to you if I stay, and I don't want that. You said time would heal my wounds. I wanted to believe that, but the scars I have are too deep, Sam. Only in Valinor will I find healing. Remember when we were at Mount Doom and I told you I'm glad you're with me, here at the end of all things? Well, now this is the beginning of all things. Sam, we will see one another again. This is not the end. I have always known you loved me, and I love you, too, Sam. Don't you ever forget._

_**That's the end of what Mr. Frodo wrote. Inside the envelope, he left the chain behind. I'm holding it in my hand. And then I remembered the dream he told me once about Lady Galadriel. I understand now. She wanted him to know that he will find peace in Valinor where she was also going. And I thought about the chain slipping from his neck. It all meant something now, he would leave one day. And he would be able to leave this chain behind. Although you're gone, Mr. Frodo, I'll never forget you, either. And I know one day will meet again. **_

Sam closed his journal, dropped the quill back into the jar, and then he laid his head onto the desk. He stared at the chain in his hand. Hot tears burst from his eyes while his fingers wrapped themselves around the chain, squeezing it firmly in his hand.

After composing himself, he slipped the chain back inside the envelope. His teary eyes looked up and out through the window, past Bag End, over the hills of the Shire and back at the harbor of the Grey Havens. He could still see the ship drifting quietly across the sea, disappearing on the horizon…and into the West.

**The End**


End file.
